Lifeboat
by Rory O'Sullivan
Summary: Worf, Riker, Dax, and the Defiant have been taken hostage by a Romulan vessel... or have they?


Lieutenant Commander Worf braced himself against the arm of the command chair. The nimble destroyer USS Defiant fired it's overlarge engines in a desperate attempt to outrun the oncoming torpedo. Ahead of him on the Main Bridge, Worf watched Dax delicately tapping the Helm console. She set her jaw, firing the starboard thruster to throw the ship into a loose bank to port. The torpedo, it's tracking capacity spent, overshot the Defiant, and began to slide sideways across the black void of space as it's mini-computers worked to reacquire the target. Worf motioned to an ensign seated at the Tactical console, and a crimson beam of energy burst from the Defiant's phaser array, cutting quickly but deeply into the warhead and detonating it. Unable to bear the confines of the chair any longer, Worf leapt to his feet, and began to pace the compact Bridge. "Dax, continue evasive manoeuvres." She nodded, and continued to press the Defiant into a series of tight loops and s-curves. "And give me the co-ordinates of that torpedo's origin." Finding himself standing idly over the Helm, gazing across Dax's shoulder at a co-ordinate grid, the Klingon turned back toward the command chair, then reconsidered, and moved to the Tactical console. "Damage report." "Everything shipshape, sir. Although, the starboard thruster's secondary conduit has overloaded. "He's right, Worf," Dax interjected. "The thruster is working at sixty-eight percent of full capacity. I'm compensating with the port---" Suddenly, the viewscreen filled with a strange distortion. Then a Romulan Warbird fully decloaked, and opened fire. Worf barked, "Full about!" but Dax had already sent the ship careening away. The shields shimmered against the incoming disrupter fire, once, twice, then Dax threw the ship up on it's starboard strut. The rear shielding collapsed under a barrage of torpedoes. A follow-up 'torp seared it's way into the Defiant's titanium hull, leaving a blazing trail of sparks in it's wake. Worf tumbled against a bulkhead. The deck shifted beneath his feet, showing no sign of levelling in the near future. Dax shouted, "The starboard thruster's not responding!" "Khut'vhats!" Worf cursed. The Warbird was hovering on the Defiant's port side, forcing the ship to keep a straight course. The Warbird was almost twice as large as the Federation's largest ships, among which the Defiant ranked as one of the smallest. Never the less, Worf felt confidence in his ship, if for no other reason, because of it's able cre w. The destroyer's many phasers dutifully returned each of the Warbird's blows to the point where both ships' structural frames whined in protest. Finally, the Warbird angled ahead in an effort to bring it's rear mounted torpedo bay into action. "The Tactical ensign cried, "Phasers down, sir!" Worf showed his teeth, and willed his ship to weather the blast yet to come. A bright flash filled the screen. That's it, thought Worf, screwing his eyes shut against the glare, I died with honour, my comrades nearby--- He opened his eyes. The Bridge, the ship, were intact. On the viewscreen, the Warbird listed dangerously, spewing clouds of flame and plasma coolant into space. Slowly, agonisingly slowly, the realisation came to the Klingon that the preceding flash had been no that of a torpedo, but a phaser blast. Warbirds didn't carry phasers. Worf laughed aloud, despite himself. "How did you bring the weapons back online?" "I... didn't, sir..." the ensign stammered. "It... wasn't us..." Dax reported, "Worf! There's a starship, Sovereign class, bearing six two one point seven!" "On screen." The viewscreen display shifted upward and to port. A sleek vessel glided into view. Worf made out the characters NCC-1701-E. The Enterprise took up pursuit of the Warbird. On the ship's Bridge, Captain Jean-Luc Picard leaned over the Conn control board. "Status of the Defiant?" Commander Riker looked up briefly. "Some buckling on the starboard flank, sir, but otherwise none the worse for wear." "Understood. Open a channel to the Warbird." "Channel open." "This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation starship Enterprise," he began in customary fashion. "You have violated the Neutral Zone. Explain yourself at once or you will be fired upon." "No response, Captain." Picard ran a hand over his skull. "Forward phaser array, fire at will. Torpedo bays on standby." "Aye, sir. Firing..." Phaser beams lanced out, scoring the Warbird's hull. "This is your final warning. Explain yourself immediately!" The Warbird banked around and warped into the distance. But not before getting off a parting shot. The lone torpedo gathered speed as it homed on the Defiant. Even as the Enterprise pitched downward toward it, the 'torp shattered the remnants of the destroyer's forward shields and embedded itself in the hull. "Khut'vhats! Khut'vhats!" Worf pulled himself up to a standing position. The Tactical ensign yelled, "Damage reports coming in shipwide!" He glanced sideways at the commander. "Incoming message. From the Enterprise." Picard's face filled the viewer. "Defiant. We have registered that your life support systems are down. We're preparing to beam your crew to our Cargo Bay Three." "Do it!" Worf howled. Blue, tingling transporter beams filled the room, illuminating the otherwise dimly lit Bridge. The Defiant's small crew materialised in the Enterprise's expansive cargo bay. Worf left the crowd to talk amongst themselves, and moved toward the doorway. He tapped his comm badge. "Bridge?" "Here, Mister Worf." "What is the Defiant's condition?" "The ship is more or less crippled, Commander." "Very well." "We're taking it under tow now, Worf." "Thank you, sir. Worf out." The doors hummed open ahead of Worf, and he stepped into the corridor, pleasantly bathed in cascading light from overhead panels. He marched his way toward the nearest turbolift, marvelling that even though he hadn't served on the Enterprise in almost two years, he remembered the layout like the back of his hand. The turbolift opened, and Worf found Commander Riker already within. "Worf!" the commander exclaimed. "Great to see you!" Riker slapped the burly Klingon's shoulder. "Seems like every time we meet that little ship of yours takes a beating, eh?" Worf bristled, growled slightly, but returned Riker's wide, crooked grin with a small nod. "And you, sir." Riker glanced down at the computer padd in his hand. "Oh, right. Business. See you around." With that, the commander strode off around the corner. Captain Picard leaned over Ensign Omen's shoulder and stared deep into a grid map of the Alpha Quadrant. He cast his eyes downward. "What's this about, Ensign?" Omehn swallowed. "Sir, the Warbird we engaged has been identified as the Avatar of Logic. It was, according to Starfleet Intel, assigned to border patrol. It was last heard from three weeks ago, when our spies intercepted a gar bled log entry." "Play it." The speakers surrounding the Bridge crackled into activity. Picard made out a cold, gravely voice. "---is Sub-Commander Par'neth. Ship's log, starcycle seventeen three zero zero. entry Altar of Logic, registry 777-RSE. Our long range sensors have detected a trio of Cardassian Galor class warships crossing the Neutral Zone. M oving to intercept." Picard looked back at the grid. "So the... Avatar... went rogue?" "It appears that way, sir." "Captain," Data, his android eyes glaring at him, started from the Conn. "I do not believe we should draw any conclusions from this circumstantial evidence until further investigation is carried out." "Agreed." Picard turned back toward the main viewer, knowing full well that all eyes on the Bridge were upon him. "and I think we're the best ship to investigate. Helm, new course." "New course, sir." "Neutral Zone, Warp Three." "Aye, Captain." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Unlike the rest of the ship, the Captain's Readyroom off the Bridge was an exact duplicate of that of the previous Enterprise, the one where Worf had spent seven years. He reflected on the many times he'd stood at attention as he did now, the captain's eyes gleaming as he commended the Klingon, or his slight frown when he dressed Worf down for unruly behaviour. Now the captain was seated comfortably, sipping at his Earl Grey. Counsellor Troi sat nearby. Behind Worf, Jadzia Dax stood at attention also. Picard carefully laid the Earl Grey down on his polished desk, and sat forward. "Starfleet life's been treating you well, Worf!" "Thank you, Captain." "So, how are Commander Sisko and the rest, out in the nether regions of space?" Worf smiled thinly. "Captain Sisko, sir." Before Picard could respond, Dax stepped forward. "Captain Picard, I understand you recommended Benjamin for command of Deep Space Nine. I'd like to thank you. The position's really done him some good." "And you are?" "Jadzia Dax, sir. DS9's science officer." "No thanks necessary, Lieutenant. Was there something else, Worf?" Picard's attention returned once more to the Earl Grey. "How long until we reach Deep Space Nine?" Picard paused for a moment. "Actually, Commander, I'm afraid we have a somewhat more pressing matter to attend to before we bring you home. Namely, the origin of that Warbird. It violated the Neutral Zone. We have to find a rea sonable explanation, or we'll be looking at war on two fronts!" Worf growled. As much as his heart yearned for battle, he knew that the Federation was barely coping with hostilities from the Dominion-Cardassian alliance. A diplomatic incident with the Romulans would prove fatal. "Very well, sir. Do you have a posting for me on this mission?" "Picard reclined a bit. "Frankly, Worf, at the risk of forcing you into a fifth wheel position, our ship is fully staffed at the moment. You're free to enjoy our recreational facilities." "Thank you, Captain," Worf muttered. With a curt nod, he about faced and strode out, Dax in tow. Picard awoke to Red Alert sirens. Momentarily disoriented, he looked to the wall-mounted chronometer. 0300 hours. Three o'clock, Picard thought as he shook his head to clear it. Must have drifted off. Riker's deep voice boomed over the ship's intercom. "All hands to battle stations! Captain Picard to the Bridge!" Picard tapped his comm badge. "What's going on, Number One?" "We've received a distress call from a Pakled colony in the middle of the Neutral Zone. They claim to be under attack from an unprovoked Warbird." Picard threw a glance at the porthole and realised the stars were standing still. The Enterprise wasn't moving. "Why aren't we responding?" "Captain," Riker started, "there aren't any Pakled colonies in this sector." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Commander?" another voice called for Riker's attention. "Sir?" It was Ensign Omehn. "The colonists say the Warbird is moving off. If we're walking into a trap, I don't see the danger in it...?" Riker took the command chair. "Captain, we have to ditch the Defiant. The tractor beams won't hold up at warp speed." "Agreed. Assemble a skeleton crew to keep her running until we return. We'll give chase once Defiant is unloaded." The Defiant was a wreck. That was Geordi La Forge's first impression. He was the first to materialise on the destroyer's battered Bridge. He hovered about awkwardly for a moment, his clunky environmental suit confining his move ments. Worf appeared next, followed by Riker and Dax. Each magnetised their boots to the scorched traction carpet. Riker, seeing that the command chair lay in shambles, slumped down at a side console. "I'll run a computer diagnostic. Geordi, patch up the artificial gravity, and start working on life support. Worf, start the shields powering . Dax, keep us in contact with the Enterprise." Each of the crew nodded, and lumbered off in separate directions. Dax seated herself at the Helm, brushed away some fallen ash from the control board, and went to work finding the comm frequency that would reach Enterprise. Riker, finding the computers intermittently failing, dropped down ont o his back and opened the underside access panel. On the Bridge's raised level, finding the turbolifts off-line as well, Geordi and Worf worked together to pry open a hatch which lead into an emergency Jeffries tube. They scrambled in. Geordi's optical implants adjusted to the non-existent lighting, and he directed Worf down a second connecting tube to the torpedo bays, and deflector shield control. The engineer continued his fast-paced scramble down a few de cks to Engineering, and set to work. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Picard, feeling the extra responsibility of the ship without it's first officer, ordered Tactical to disengage tractor beam . Unrestrained, the Defiant drifted silently in space. The captain set his jaw. "Helm, the Pakled colony, Warp Eight." On the Defiant, Riker sat up. The main viewer, blinking in and out of usefulness, showed the Enterprise banking swiftly about to port, then warping out of view. He sighed. "Worf? How're those shields coming?" Worf never got the chance to answer. The ship was buffeted by a disrupter blast. Then another. Then another. Riker found himself tumbling back and forth across the Bridge as the deck shifted. The viewscreen fizzled out. Riker smelled smoke, saw an explosion in his peripheral vision. Dax had managed to crawl under the Helm console for cover. The destroyer weathered shockwave after shockwave of energy. Riker lurched to his feet. A sensor panel, frozen in a circuit malfunction two minutes prior, showed a Romulan Warbird decloaking. He cursed. An extremely harsh bolt of disrupter fire sent the Defiant spinning end over end. Riker toppled forward. His helmet visor slammed into the deck. It splintered, and his hiss of expelling oxygen filled his ears. Then everything, swimming with red, went black. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "No sign of the Warbird, Captain." Omehn reported. Picard slammed a fist into the command chair's padded arm. Where was the ambush? The daring attack? The subterfuge? Where was the enemy that had so easily eluded him? Data, who had been huddled over a console to the Bridge's rear, called for Picard's attention. "Sir, I believe we have a problem." Without second thought, Picard rose and moved to Data's side. "Report." Data scanned the text on his monitor. "The sensors registered a small trail of ion particles following us shortly after our battle with the Warbird." Picard filled in the blanks. "The type expelled by a cloaked ship's exhausted." "Yes, sir." "So the Romulans are behind us?" He could feel the tension level rise. "No, sir. If the computer had thought anything of the particles, it would have alerted us to the fact that the trail ended at our previous position." Picard's eyes widened. "Where we left the Defiant!" The tension level rose higher. There never had been an attacker out here. Just a ruse. He'd been played for a fool. He whirled around. "Helm! Reverse course! Maximum Warp!" The Enterprise half-spun on it's axis, and went to warp. Picard milled it over. Advanced Starfleet technology, and half his senior crew, all vulnerable to a rogue Romulan. "Helm, auxiliary power to the engines!" -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Only minutes later, the Enterprise exploded onto it's old co-ordinates. Picard's eyes coldly stared into space. Bleak space. Empty space. Data took it upon himself to state the obvious. Someone had to. "The Defiant is gone, sir." Picard quivered with rage, but held his anger in check. "Data... Data, I want a list of all possible destinations the Warbird's commander has in mind. Within the hour." Two blurry forms appeared at the edge of Riker's vision. He shook his head to clear it. Worf and Dax were hunched over him, their uniforms torn and blackened, their spacesuits hanging nearby, equally charred. Riker raised himself on one elbow. Dax motioned for him to hold still. "You've bruised a rib. Otherwise, you're fine." "Riker mumbled, "Where? Where am I...?" Dax indicated to Worf, who took up a sentry-like position nearby. She turned back to Riker. "We dragged you into a Jeffries tube when the Cardassians boarded us. We've been hiding out in Tube Junction Beta ever since." "Cardassians!" "Uh-huh," Dax nodded sombrely. "Seems the Cardies got the better of the Romulans in battle three weeks ago, and commandeered a Warbird." "So... Where are we now? In space, I mean." "The Defiant's been pulled into one of the Warbird's cargo bays. We're en route to Cardassia Prime, near as I can tell. They've managed to bring artificial gravity and life support back on-line." Worf growled, not for the first time. "If they repair the internal sensors, they will be able to pinpoint our position." Riker rubbed his forehead. "Wait a minute! Where's Geordi?" He bolted upright. "Where is he?" "Calm down, Commander," Worf intoned in a harsh whisper. "Commander La Forge was in Main Engineering during the attack. We haven't heard from him since." Riker clawed at a bulkhead, dragging himself to his feet. "Damn! Engineering would've been one of the first places they'd search." Worf's lips curled back in a feral expression. "If they've captured him... they will be sorry." "Relax, Worf," Dax muttered. "Well, Commander? You're the senior officer. What's the game plan?" "How many Cardassians?" "I estimate about one hundred fifty on the Warbird. There were maybe twenty waiting in the cargo bay to board us when their tractor beams brought us in. In any case, the numbers are high." "Still," Riker picked up a hand phaser. "They have no reason to leave more than five or six on the Bridge." "What're you suggesting?" Dax wondered aloud. Worf smiled. He saw the infamous glint in Riker's eye. "Up for a little Cardassian bashing, Mister Worf?" The two moved toward the Jeffries tube hatch. "Wait a minute!" Dax called out. "You can't just charge onto the Bridge and start shooting!" Worf harrumphed. "Why not?" "I've got a better idea." She opened a second hatch. "You two wait here for my signal. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Under the cover of artificial darkness, caused by the lack of power to the Defiant's light panels, Dax moved stealthily down the corridor. Only one Cardassian sentry was posted outside Transporter Room Two. She holstered her phaser and crept forward. In a flash, she'd slipped the Cardassian's hand weapon from his belt and pressed it into the small of his back. The sentry began to yell something. Screwing her eyes shut, Dax discharged the weapon. The guard disintegrated. She tapped out a code on the door panel, and it swished open. The transporter room was empty. She moved to the transport control console. "Computer, is there enough power to erect a containment field around the transporter pad?" "Negative." Dax punched the console in frustration. "Okay. Computer, set the pad to overload exactly three seconds after next transport." "Command authorisation access required to execute that specific command." "Dax DS9 Kurzon Zeta Five." "Command code confirmed." Dax manipulated the controls, which read seven Cardassians were stationed on the Bridge. She locked onto each Cardassian's bio-signature, pushed the energise touchplate, and darted for the exit. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Riker trained his phaser on the Jeffries tube access hatch. "What is she doing?!" Worf sat nearby, virtually shaking with impatience. Riker's comm badge chirped for his attention. "Dax to Riker!" She sounded out of breath. "Riker here! What---?" He heard a muffled explosion in the background somewhere. "The Bridge is clear, Commander! Go!" Without second thought, Worf scrambled up the Jeffries tube. He shouldered his way out onto the deserted Bridge. Riker clambered out after Worf, wiping his brow. "Sir!" Worf called, "the computers are back on-line!" Riker smiled broadly. "Maybe Cardassians are good for something after all!" He hurdled the sensor board, and landed at the Helm console. "Okay. First we get a message to Captain Picard---" Worf whirled at the sound of the turbolift doors opening. Dax tumbled onto the deck, a disrupter burn scorched across her right shoulder. "Worf!" she hissed. "Cardassians! Climbing the shaft--- behind me!" Worf leapt into the turbolift, kicked the access hatch in the floor open, and fired in indiscriminately until he was satisfied Dax's pursuers were either stunned or put off climbing further. Riker turned. "We got a problem, folks. Another one." Dax pushed herself to her feet, rubbing her shoulder. "What now?" "The Warbird has it's shields up. We can't transmit through Romulan shields." Worf moved to Riker's side. "Are the weapons on-line." "Nope." Dax slumped into the remnants of the command chair to study the captain's control monitor. "Will, I know how we break out." "Go ahead." Gul Amor, the Cardassian captain of the Avatar of Logic, strode along the cargo bay. He stopped for a moment and observed the cavernous room. The Defiant's sleek curvature filled most of it. Amor smiled. He was genuinely please d with himself. The Dominion had seen fit to reactivate the Bureau of Alien Technology Confiscation. His bureau. Not only had they reappointed him, but they'd let him command the mission. Him alone. No Vorta to look over his shoulder. And he had done an e xemplary job, bringing back shining examples of both Romulan and Federation tech to dissect and examine as he saw fit. Suddenly, Amor dropped the computer padd he'd been carrying. The Defiant's engines had started up. Flame spurted from the port thruster, but it ignited, and slowly rotated the ship until it's starboard side faced the massive cargo bay doors. Inside, Riker was hunched over the Helm. He channelled the auxiliary power reserves into the useless starboard thruster. The thruster charged to one hundred percent. Then one hundred ten. One hundred thirty... one hundred seventy... The starboard coolant tank burst, spilling plasma to the deck. The thruster threw sparks, cascading reds and blues mixed with yellows and purples. Finally, the whole thruster assembly exploded violently, shattering the cargo do ors. With a war whoop, Riker started the Impulse engines and shot out of the bay. He twisted the ship downward, barely scraping against the underside of the Warbird. "Worf! We're stuck until they drop their deflector shields!" Dax frowned. "If they make any sudden twists or turns---" "They runs us into the shields, and 'boom.' I know." "I've got an idea, Commander." Dax pulled up to the Helm. "What? Another one?" Riker said in mock annoyance. "You're turning into a real miracle worker, Jadzia. Did you ever meet Captain Scott?" "That's another story," Dax muttered conspiratorially. "We're going to double warp," she explained. "It's a theory of Chief O'Brien's. We initiate two parallel warp courses, and force the ship to vibrate between them. If we vib rate fast enough---" She punctuated her sentence by pounding on the 'engage' key panel. The destroyer began to quiver. Then shake. It vibrated so violently that it's molecules disassembled, and it 'disappeared.' Then the warp engines ignited. The molecules, smaller than the molecules composing the enemy shields, p assed through the artificial barrier easily. The engines shut down, and the molecules reassembled. Outside the shields. Riker felt like he was going to throw up. He felt as if he'd spent a week in a transporter effect. But he thrust his fist into the air. "Brilliant!" Dax gritted her teeth. "It ain't over yet." Riker switched the viewscreen to a rear view, and saw the Warbird coming about to give chase. "Damn." Worf, feeling useless, plonked down at the Tactical console. "Commander! The Enterprise has registered us on it's long range sensors! They are five minutes away!" Riker glanced backward. "We'll meet them halfway. Ahead, Warp Seven." Picard stared at the stars streaking past. The sight used to make his space sick. Now he marvelled at the wondrous detail of space with awe. "Captain," Omehn dutifully reported, "the Defiant is moving toward us. The Warbird is following." "Lock phasers on the Warbird and---" "Sir, the Defiant is directly blocking our shot." Picard cursed. No matter how they moved, the Romulans were smart enough to keep the Defiant between them. He swallowed. "Helm, reverse course." The Enterprise stopped on the metaphorical dime, and rocketed backward. "Sir?" Data queried. "Starfleet is hosting war games in the next sector. The Romulans don't know that." Once the Enterprise passed from one sector into the next, it dropped out of warp. Only moments later, the Defiant, and the Warbird followed suit. Suddenly, from the shadow of a nearby planet, three Nebula class starships registered the Warbird and swarmed it like vultures. Meanwhile, the Enterprise drifted closer to the Defiant, and in one smooth pass, it's transporters probed the destroyer with pinpoint precision. Disoriented, Riker, Worf, and Dax materialised on the Enterprise's Bridge. Riker was the first to regain his composure. "Where's Geordi?" "We couldn't find him. Maybe he's---" "No. You'd still pick up his badge signal. He must be aboard the Warbird!" "Zuit alors!" Picard jogged to the communications console and opened a channel. "This is the Captain Picard of the Enterprise to all ships: Disengage your attack! I repeat, disengage now!" He whirled toward Omehn. "What's the s tatus of the Warbird?" "Their shields are down... Warp power's off-line." Riker stumbled forward. "Captain, let me---" but Picard had already hit his comm badge. He would not be eluded again. "Transporter Room Three, one to beam across." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Picard materialised in what was apparently the Romulan mess hall. Fortunately, since the ship was on alert, it was deserted. He spotted a grating, about a metre in diameter, set high up in the far wall. It seemed the best exit, so he sprinted toward it, and hurled himself into the air in a flying drop kick. The grate collapsed in under his heel, and he found himself in a dank life support ventilation tube. The tube was lined with similar grates, which released oxygen into one room or another. Picard scuttled along, passing the conference lounge, a transporter room, an observation deck. He realised the ship was swarming with Carda ssians, probably the same the Avatar had run into weeks ago. Finally, he came to a vent which opened into an apparent interrogation cell. Inside, three Cardassians stood around a bruised and battered Geordi La Forge. Snarling despite himself, remembering the horrors of his own Cardassian interrogation so many years ago, Picard drummed on a control panel, closing that particular vent. With a hiss, oxygen disappeared from the room. When he op ened the vent, two minutes later, all four forms were unconscious, Geordi slumped over his chair. Picard dropped into the room, and hoisted the engineer onto his shoulders. He shinned back up into the vent with more than a little difficulty, and felt for a pulse, ignoring the sweat collecting on his brow. "Captain!" Riker's voice echoed through the tube from Picard's badge. "The Warbird's warp drive is back on-line!" "Beam Geordi back, Will. I'll stop them." "But sir---" "We can't let the Cardassians get away with Romulan technology, Number One. It would tip the scales more so. And this ship could easily outrun is. Picard out." Geordi's body disappeared into the transporter effect. Picard continued onward down the tube. At the far end, the Main Engineering complex spread out in three directions, the warp reactor in the centre. Picard dropped into the room and wrapped his arm around the mouth of the nearest Cardassian. "Not a sound," he whisper ed, "or you won't see another sunrise." Surprised at his own vehemence, Picard slid the Cardassian pistol from the engineer's belt. There were three other Cardassians in the room, none of which had bothered to notice him. Picard hurled his hostage to the floor, and mowed the others down in a flurry of disrupter fire. Then he levelled the pistol at the warp reactor, called out, "Enterprise, one to beam up," and fired. The room erupted into flame, even as the energy beam pierced the reactor casing. But before he felt the force of the explosion, he faded from view. The captain appeared on the Bridge of his ship just in time to see the Avatar of Logic explode into shards of green hued metal. Picard collapsed into the command chair, his command chair, and motioned to Riker. Riker cleared his throat. "Helm, about to course seven nine nine mark three. Warp Two. Engage." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Epilogue -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Worf shook the captain's hand, and once more stepped onto the transporter padd. He looked down at the command crew gathered nearby. This was his family. Always had been. Picard's warm smile, the twinkle in his eye, seemed to be ckon Worf to stay, to... to help in the family business. But Worf had duty to attend to. He shifted his gaze to somewhere else. Anywhere else. "Energise." And then he was back on Deep Space Nine, and as Dax slid her hand into his, he realised he'd been wrong. This was his family now. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------


End file.
